Remedy
by ForeverBlossom
Summary: Chekov is hurt after a mission but does not get it checked. What will happened when Jim finds out and orders him to go to McCoy? How will the doctor react? Warnings inside, please read before continuing. SLASH


**Warnings: This is a SLASH story! So if you do not like, then do not read. But if you still read, then do not flame me and complain about the pairing, because it is your own fault for clicking on my story. Thank you**

**Parings: McCoy(Bones)/Chekov **

**Rating: T for safety. Though it is full of fluffiness!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Trek movie or any of its characters. Simply this little fanfic.**

**Author's Note: So, this was just a simple thought that I decided to turn into a fanfic. I hope you all like it! Please review/comment when done reading, but only if you would like to.  
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"Good work everyone. Mission accomplished." Captain James T. Kirk stated happily as he stepped down from the transporter pad, the others following his lead. Chekov sighed with relief as he stepped from his pad, his body feeling quite sore, much to the young Ensign's discomfort. The Russian winced as he jarred his very sore wrist. Glancing down at it he noticed a bruise forming around it.

"Is something wrong Chekov?" Said Russian's eyes snapped up to meet his Captain's blue ones. Flushing slightly Chekov quickly composed himself and shook his head.

"No Keptain, everything is fine." Chekov assured with a smile. He resisted the urge to shift on his feet as Jim stared at him, seemingly studying him, before the man smiled and patted Chekov on his sore back.

"Sure. Great work out there by the way, Pavel." The young ensign instantly beamed at his Captain's words.

"Thank you very much Keptain." Chekov said happily as the two walk out of the transporter room and into the hall. Jim placed a couple more pats on Chekov's shoulder before he moved away.

"No problem. Now, why don't you head off to your quarters. You look like you could use the rest." Chekov smiled gratefully at the older man as they stopped walking.

"Okay Keptain." Jim gave the kid a grin before nodding in approval.

"Alrighty then! I'll see you bright and early for tomorrows shift."

"Of course Keptain." With that said Jim turned and began walking down the hall, quickly waving back at Chekov with one last goodbye before turning around the corner and disappearing.

Once he was sure that the Captain was out of ear shot Chekov released a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as the day's activities began to take its toll on him. Turning around Chekov began to make the journey to his room.

After what seemed like an eternity, Chekov finally made it to the door leading to his room. He quickly put in his code and walked into his room. As he entered Chekov finally let his body relax before the door slid to a close behind him. Walking over Chekov carefully sat down on the edge of his bed before he let himself fall backwards on to the inviting comforter. Sighing contently Chekov let his eyes close, and before he knew it he was drifting off into a light sleep.

~#~#~

Groaning to himself Chekov opened his eyes, knowing full well that he would lose against the battle for more sleep. Shifting slightly Chekov was slightly relieved to find out that his body wasn't as sore as it had been the day before.

Moving to push himself up on his bed, Chekov let out a sharp cry of pain as he placed weight on his now throbbing wrist, causing to him fall back on his bed. Quickly looking down Chekov gasped as he spotted the now purple, nearly black, bruise around his swollen wrist.

Pushing himself up with his other hand, Chekov stared down at his wrist, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. _Okay, this is not too bad. I can get through this. _Taking a deep calming breath, Chekov got out of bed and stepped into his bathroom to get ready for the day.

Half an hour later Chekov was walking down the hall towards the turbo lift that would take him to the bridge. He repeatedly tugged at his uniform, trying to make sure that his shirt sleeve would cover up the bruise around his small wrist.

When he finally entered the bridge he noticed that there were already others there, ready to begin their shift. He spotted Sulu already sitting at his station, going over a few things before his shift started.

Spock and Jim were standing over by the Vulcan's station, talking amongst themselves. Chekov noted their close proximity, but didn't dare to comment or dwell on it. Quickly walking over to his own station the young ensign sat down in his seat, keeping his hurt wrist out of sight of everyone for the time being.

"Hey Chekov." Said male looked over and smiled at Sulu.

"Good morning Sulu." Chekov greeted cheerfully. The two talked for a short time while the others began to arrive for their morning shift. Once everyone had shown up Jim said a few more words to Spock before he smiled at the Vulcan and walked away to his chair.

"Alright everyone, let's get started."

For the next couple of hours everything seemed to go by smoothly. Chekov had managed to hold back any signs that he was in pain. But the young ensign's relief was cut short when he reached up to the higher controls on his console, his shirt sleeve rising and exposing his wrist.

At first, Chekov did not notice it, too busy with his job and helping to maintain the ship. But he quickly realized his mistake when he suddenly felt a firm hand on his shoulder, startling the poor ensign. He quickly looked up only to meet Jim's steal blue eyes. Gulping silently at the sudden stare Chekov simply blinked up at his Captain with confusion.

"Chekov," Said male inwardly flinched at the hard tone of the older man's voice. "What the hell is that?" Chekov blinked again as Jim pointed down at something, only to realized what, actually, his Captain was talking about. Quickly looking to his arm, Chekov stared in fear as his full wrist was exposed for everyone to see.

The swelling had apparent grew slightly in size as the bruising turned a shade or two darker. Flushing at being caught Chekov quickly pulled his arm close to him, trying desperately to hide the evidence of his pain.

"Do not try and hide it." This time Chekov really did wince at the commanding voice of his superior. Glancing up at the older male guilty, Chekov did try to mask his pain his sudden movement to hide his wrist caused.

"Go to sickbay and get that looked at." Chekov's head snapped, his mouth opening immediately to protest, but a glare from Jim instantly stopped him. "That's an order Ensign."

Knowing there was no way to get out of it, Chekov turned and got out of his seat, his head slightly bowed in shame and embarrassment as he walked across the bridge, the feeling of almost everyone's eyes on him making him uncomfortable.

When the turbo lifts doors slid shut Chekov only then released the breath he had unnoticeably been holding. Leaning back against the cool metal on the lift Chekov ran his good hand through his hair, feeling the tension in his body grow slightly at the thought of getting his wrist checked out.

Knowing full well that his thoughts were childish, Chekov quickly pushed them aside as the lift stopped and opened. Steadying himself, Chekov carefully made his way to sickbay, feeling anxiety slowly crawl over him.

When the doors opened with the usual 'hiss' Chekov cautiously stood in the doorway, glancing nervously around.

"Can I help you?" Chekov jumped and looked over at one of the nurses. Smiling shyly at her Chekov quickly answered.

"Um . . . yes, I was looking for Doctor McCoy."

"Yeah, what is it that you need kid?" Chekov looked up as McCoy, or, as he is better known as, Bones, walked out of his office and towards the Russian ensign. Swallowing harshly Chekov lifted his arm to show his wrist.

"I was ordered to get this checked." Chekov watched as Bones' eyes widened slightly at the sight of his wrist before he quickly stepped closer to the ensign and reached up to grab a hold of his arm.

"Shit kid. What the hell happened?" McCoy asked as he led Chekov to one of the bio beds, instructing him to take a seat before he reaches out again and begins inspecting the bruised wrist. Chekov let out a sharp hiss when McCoy prodded it, feeling a stinging shoot up his arm.

"Well congratulations kid, you've managed to sprain your wrist." Chekov blinked at the doctor with a surprised look. Sprained his wrist? But . . . he thought it wasn't that serious. Chekov was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Bones press the end of a hypospray against his neck before he felt the familiar sting of the injection.

"What the hell were you thinking kid? You should have come to me the moment you got this." McCoy chided seriously as he began to wrap Chekov's wrist. Said Russian lowered his head with guilt.

"I am sorry Doctor."

"Save your breath kid, I don't want to hear it." Confused by the older man's sudden hostile tone, Chekov looks up and is surprised to see such anger in the Southern man's eyes.

"I . . . I had not thought that it vas this ba-" Chekov started but was cut off by Bones.

"Exactly kid. You weren't thinking. Because of that you have made this much worse then it had to be." Feeling slightly offended Chekov opened his mouth, about to defend himself, but was cut off by the doctor again. "If you can't even seem to look after yourself, then you should not be trusted with the lives of everyone on this ship."

Chekov froze instantly at McCoy's words, feeling as if he had been struck physically instead of verbally. Is . . . is that really how the other thought of him? That he was just a stupid kid in a grown up world? That he shouldn't even be on this ship if he can't even take care of himself?

Bowing his head so his bangs shadowed over his eyes, Chekov refused to let the doctor see how hurt he was by the man's words. A sudden tension over the two of them sent them off into silence. Neither of them wanted to speak, fearing that more harsh things would be said.

When McCoy was done with the wrappings and was about to send the kid off, Chekov was already off the bio bed and nearly out the door before he could even get a word out. Watching the ensign leave, McCoy let out heavy sigh. _Shit._

~#~#~

McCoy sighed as he placed his PADD down and rubbed at his eyes, feeling the tension in his shoulders increase slightly. He pulled his hands away from his eyes when he heard his office door close suddenly. Looking over, Bones was slightly surprised to see Jim standing in front of his now closed door, knowing full well that the Captain doesn't usually come down to sickbay willingly. Sighing to himself again, McCoy leaned back into his chair.

"What is it this time Jim?" McCoy asked as he looked back down at his PADD. When he didn't receive an answer from the other male, he glanced up at him. Jim continued his silence as he walked further into the room until he was standing in front of Bones' desk.

"Alright, spill. What did you do?" McCoy raised an eyebrow at his Captain.

"What are you talking about?" Jim rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Don't give me that Bones. What did you do to Chekov?" Growing even more confused Bones furrowed his eyebrows.

"I have no idea what you're talking about Jim."

"I told the kid to come and get his wrist checked out. Ten minutes later he comes back on the bridge and tells me that you told him that he shouldn't be working with his wrist so messed up and then left immediately after I gave him the go ahead to leave for the day. Now, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything to the kid. I fixed him up, that's it." McCoy answered as he thought over the ensign's weird behavior.

"That's all? You didn't say anything to him?"

"No, I jus-" McCoy broke off suddenly as he recalled everything that he had said to the poor ensign. Cringing with realization McCoy looked down at his desk. Taking the silence and his look as a quick answer, Jim sighed and lowered his arms.

"What ever it is you did, fix it. I don't care how, just fix it." Jim stated as he turned and walked towards the door. McCoy looked up at him with slight amusement.

"Is that an order Captain?" Jim paused in the doorway and looked back at McCoy, a teasing grin set on his face.

"Only if you need it to be Bones." With that said Jim then left the other male alone, leaving the sickbay entirely, walking down the hallway, towards his quarters.

Hours later, McCoy was still sitting in his office, but was now clouded with thoughts about the young ensign he had seen earlier. _Did I really upset the kid that much? I mean, I guess I was a little harsh on him. But I was only angry at . . . at what exactly? Why __**was **__I so angry? _McCoy's thoughts filtered out from there, growing more and more confusing.

Finally, unable to take his own thoughts any longer, Bones got up from his seat and exited his office and sickbay, no one around to try and stop him since it was late and the next shift was more than likely just heading to sickbay.

As he stood in front of Chekov's door, McCoy began to hesitate. Why was he so nervous? And where the hell did it come from? Stealing himself McCoy raised his hand and knocked a couple of times before drawing his hand away, waiting for an answer. When he didn't receive one, he tried again. When he hadn't gotten an answer after waiting a couple more minutes McCoy typed in his override code and stepped into the room once the door had opened to let him in.

Looking around Bones soon spotted the young ensign lying in the middle of his bed, sleeping soundly. Carefully walking closer to the bed, McCoy gazed down at the sleeping male, feeling his anger from before, when he had gotten no answer at the door, instantly dissipate.

A second later, guilt washed over the doctor as he spotted the tale tell tracks of died tears on Chekov's face. Feeling like a complete ass, McCoy sat down on the edge of the bed in arms reached of the sleeping ensign, making sure not to disturb the other. He glanced over and saw the still wrapped wrist resting gently on the pillow close to Chekov's face, his fingers twitching just slightly before settling once more.

A sudden noise broke McCoy's daze thoughts. He quickly looked over, fearing that Chekov had awakened without him knowing, but let out a sigh when he realized that the other was still sleeping. The noise came again, causing McCoy's eyebrows to furrow with confusion. He soon realized that the noise was from Chekov. The young ensign shifted suddenly before moaning again, his own brows drawing together, but not in confusion.

McCoy watched Chekov as he curled up into a ball, his free arm coming up to wrap around himself, as if to protect him from an unseen danger. The young male groaned again, his whole body twitching this time, not only his fingers.

"Sorry." McCoy listened as Chekov began to repeat that one word over and over a few more times before shifting again restlessly.

Instantly spotting the signs of someone in the grips of a nightmare, McCoy reached out and gently laid his hand on the ensign's shoulder, trying to comfort him as much as he could without waking him. McCoy smiled softly to himself as he felt Chekov's tense muscles relax slightly under his touch.

His relaxed ease was broken quite abruptly as Chekov suddenly reached out towards him and wrapped his good arm around the Southern male's waist, trapping the older man to him and his bed.

McCoy instantly stiffened at the sudden contact. As he was about to move Chekov's arm and pull away he then noticed the small content smile on the young Russian's face and how his body was relaxing fully at the doctor's seemingly soothing touch.

Reluctant to take away the young ensigns apparent content, McCoy resigned himself to his fate and carefully moved so he was more comfortable. Once he was situated, he stared down and watched as Chekov moved even closer to him, drawn to the man's warmth.

_How did I end up getting myself in this mess? _Bones wondered to himself as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillow behind him. Unconsciously, his hand reached up and began running his fingers through the ensign's light brown locks as he slowly drifted off.

~#~#~

Chekov groaned as he was woken by and unfamiliar feeling. Slowly opening his eyes, he blinked a few times, making sure that the sight in front of him wasn't just a figment of his imagination. Because there, lying next to him was Doctor Leonard McCoy, the older male's arms wrapped securely around him and his face buried into his hair, soft puffs of breaths against his cheekbone.

Confused by the man's appearance in his room, Chekov then recalled the soft feeling of someone's hand on his shoulder and in his hair in the midst of his nightmare. Quickly putting two and two together, Chekov couldn't help but smile at the fact that it was McCoy who was the one that was comforting him in his time of need.

Feeling warmed by the doctor's actions, Chekov took the advantage and moved closer to the older males, his smile widening as he felt the arms around him tighten just slightly. Burying his face into McCoy's chest, Chekov let himself drift back off to sleep, extremely happy with where he was.

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**Thank you so much for reading everyone! I hope you enjoyed it!  
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